I know that I will probably live to regret saying this in the next few weeks when I am exhausted, sleep deprived and covered in projectile vomit, but TODAY, at 39 weeks and 5 days pregnant – the most pregnant I’ve ever been – I’m sooooooo over it. My son, now four, was born at 37.5 weeks. This baby is now 2 full weeks past its big brother’s due date and I DO NOT LIKE BEING NINE MONTHS PREGNANT! I do not like it Sam I Am, I do not like peeing-eight-times-a-night-not-being-able-to-sit-up-feeling-like-a roast ham. See? Pregnancy makes me have terrible rhymes.
I am stuck in this weird space where all I want to do is move on to the next part of my life. The “non-pregnant, begin to feel like myself” part where I’m officially done having children. I can get to the part where I start to get in shape (hopefully), enjoy my time off with my children/blogs (probably) and drink wine (abso-fucking-lutely). I have been to the hospital for several “false starts” and at one point was incredibly jealous of the woman next to me who was in legitimate labour. Who is jealous of a labouring woman? Probably the same women who takes pictures of her shoes while in Labour & Delivery assessment areas…
I even took a video of the baby’s heartbeat when they were testing to make sure it was OK to try and show my son that I’m not just fat, there is actually something in the huge belly protruding from me. OK, although admittedly it’s also because the heart beat makes the exact same sound that my dog does when he is snoring in his sleep… Click on the link, below, and tell me I’m wrong.
Odds are now that this baby will not come out until it is medically forced to, something which could be as late as May 10th (!). I’ve tried everything, for the record…
- Chinese Food (Ate an insane quantity of ginger beef. No dice.)
- Spicy Food (Bad idea. Heartburn is perhaps worse than labour?)
- Running (Also bad idea. Picture stretched skin stretching more and panting like a dying dog)
- Walking (Around the mall, naturally)
- Jumping (Around my house, naturally)
- Raspberry Leaf Tea (Tastes exactly like you’d expect leaves to taste. YUCK)
- Squats (Needing help to get up, not going to lie)
- Using the breast pump (If you have to ask, don’t)
- Watching videos of babies (If the baby heard other babies, it would come… Right? Right? WRONG)
- Begging (“If you come out today, I’ll buy you a car when you’re sixteen!”)
- Pleading (“Pleeeeeease. Pleeeeeeeease come out. Pleeeeeeeease”)
- … You know… Stuff… With husbands… (Again, if you have to ask, don’t)
- Just trying to push it out (If I push, it will come? Nope. Only pee does, for the record)
- Swinging (On swings, in a park, not with random couples… See above for evidence)
… and I’m willing to try anything else (except castor oil. Really don’t want to be sick in that way AND nine months pregnant). PLEASE TELL ME IF SOMETHING WORKS! In the meantime, I’m trying to relax and taking ridiculous numbers of selfies to capture the essence that is my thick, lustrous, manageable pregnancy hair. #TheSmallThings
So, if you’re looking for me, I’m either trying to walk this baby out or laying on the couch reading a book. Let’s face it, I’ll probably be on the couch. The Nest, by the way, is a fantastic book that I highly recommend.